(Warning: Rape as fantasy is referenced in this post.)
This week’s Erotic Journal Challenge prompt is “Distress.”
Guiding Questions: Do you now find, or have you ever found, anything distressing or uncomfortable about your sexual thoughts, fantasies, desires, or actions? Is there anything that you want or need that you have trouble asking for or are reticent to admit because it makes you blush? Have you had any experiences that have caused you embarrassment?
It’s important to note, the way I came up with the questions for this challenge was to research the possibilities and add them to my own ideas. I then typed them all out, cut them apart, and put them in a large envelope. Then, I reach in a grab one each week. So, even I am not privy the idea until I draw it, and even I have to dig a bit to answer these questions. But, that was sort of the plan when I came up with the challenge. If I already had the answer to everything, then it would have simply been a challenge I was setting forth for my readers (which is still cool). I wanted it to be a journey we could go on together. And with that, here we go, in order of intensity…
In our house, we refer to anal sex as “fight club,” because it’s something I don’t want to talk about. However, Mr. D knows full well it is something I enjoy.
I don’t know what it embarrasses me so much. I guess I’ve always seen the asshole as something dirty…something you shit out of…so why on earth would you want to stick anything in it? But, it feels So. Damn. Good.
I’ll even occasionally stick a finger (or a butt plug…or a dildo…or a vibrator…) up my own ass during masturbation, or when I’m in the shower. Especially in the shower…because then, well…if there’s anything to clean…
I know…ewww. And that is exactly why it grosses me out and embarrasses the shit out of me to ask for it. (I just had to do it. Sorry.)
This is similar to anal sex for me, in that the cleanliness factor is a huge deal. Not that I’m unclean, but, even though I AM clean, unless I’ve just had an enema and scrubbed my asshole with soap (and shaved EVERYTHING), I’m totally self-conscious. This is exactly my Mr. D loves to tease me about it and bring it up. He can make me blush, squirm, and freak out just by suggesting it. And sometimes…he does it…just to prove that he can…that I won’t say no to him.
I didn’t know I liked this until just a few years ago, and I can’t remember how or why I asked for it. We were having some pretty rough sex, and I realized that when he hurt me during sex…pulling my hair roughly, grabbing some part of me to the point of bruising…I’d cry because it hurt like hell…but I’d also come, like, immediately…buckets.
I don’t know if he put his hand around my neck to hold me down or if I asked him to, but I know that at some point, either that night or on a subsequent night, I asked for it. And I know it made me come.
While I wouldn’t actually want to be raped, I think the idea of a stranger (which could be hot) combined with my need to be controlled turns into being forced.
I also looked it up and found this article here: Why Do Women Have Erotic Rape Fantasies? and Don’t Call Them Rape Fantasies from Psychology Today.
Two interesting excerpts from the second article are below with my comments:
So, what’s the problem with using the term rape to characterize a woman’s fantasies of such sexual surrender? Simply that it has a jarring, almost self-humiliating, masochistic “clang” to it.
I think the whole idea is that the term is supposed to be “jarring,” “self-humiliating,” and “masochistic,” which is exactly why it embarrasses…because my subconscious wants those things.
As Chivers puts it: “The word ‘rape’ comes with gargantuan amounts of baggage. I walk a fine line, politically and personally, talking frankly about this subject. I would never, never want to deliver the message to anyone that they have the right to take away a woman’s autonomy over her body. . . . Arousal [and, however involuntarily, most women do lubricate in situations of actual rape] is not consent.”
Rape is a hard word to use in conjunction with fantasy, and it is likely to create some pretty strong emotions in people, both those who have actually been raped and those who have not. But, even “forced sex” would do that. I’m not interested in being sexually assaulted…nor even ACTUALLY raped. But it doesn’t stop the dreams from turning me on physically. Which is why I like the final part of the above quote: “Arousal…is not consent.”
I wrote a story about it here (from my old blog): Afternoon in the Park